Sabbatical

I’ll be leaving for a vacation on the Gulf of Mexico in a few days. And I’ll also be leaving the blogosphere for a while to rest and recharge my creative batteries. I’m going to tackle my humongous stack of books-to-be-read and just enjoy life; I’ve been ignoring both for too long.

I wish to thank all who have liked and commented on my posts. And I also wish to thank each and every one of you for sharing your creative endeavors in all their various forms. I have enjoyed.

Until we meet again…

image

Photos are my own.

Love me forever…

A lovely poem by Sourav Maji…both touching and beautiful, expressing the desire for that special someone, a true soulmate.

e-MAJI-nation

Hug-sunset-silhouette

Love me now, love me forever,

Promise me you’ll leave me never.

Hug me cozy, hold me tight,

Keep me warm all through the night.

Grow up with me, grow old with me,

You have indeed become my destiny.

Speak to me, hear me too,

I want to share everything with you.

Gaze at me, stare at me,

I only dress up for you to see.

Smile at me, laugh with me,

For it’s with you I am most free.

Peck me tender, kiss me with lust,

Assure me you’ll not break my trust.

Whisper softly, feel my heartbeat,

This is the moment when two souls meet.

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Every Minute

I have mentioned before that Dave is my editor. He’s also an accomplished writer with many published works under his belt. There’s a link here to his Amazon author page listing his body of work.
My favorite is Real Live Dead Denny, (those who know me will know why :D) which I had the honor of being a beta reader before publication.

just 1 more

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Photo Challenge #108 – Making me Whole

This is a lovely poem by my friend, Michael.

Morpethroad

hideoutImage: Albert Finch

I arrive home

A long day no excuses

Its always work work work.

I’m tired, I’m cranky,

I know you will be upset at yet another late night.

A note on the kitchen table says:

“Dinner in in the oven.”

To tired to care I eat

What is now a burnt offering

But I dare not complain.

I eat in silence save for the distant

Rhythms of the songster

In whose words I know you bathe.

Not for me such soothing sentiments

Having left you high and dry.

I enter the bedroom, the music plays

I cannot see you,

I feel chastened by my tardiness.

I begin to undress and feel your arms circle my neck.

Yours are caressing hands

Caring hands, loving hands

You whisper you have missed me.

The buttons on my shirt

Slip between your fingers

Your hands slide over my chest

I take…

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Sharing My Story

I met Scout on WordPress a couple of years ago when she was “working through the monsters of her childhood” on a previous blog. Later on, her memoir, “Secrets in Big Sky Country” was published. I bought, read, and loved it so much I reviewed it (and I seldom review a book because I suck at it). It’s not a story for the faint hearted, but is a gripping, grab-you-by-the-throat read, and I came away admiring Scout even more than I already did. She’s a wonderful lady and talented writer. And my friend.

SO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT AUTISM IS LIKE?

April is National Autism Awareness Month. My fellow blogger and friend, Clarissa, at http://www.poeturja.wordpress.com does a fantastic job at expressing the interior landscape of autism.

poeturja

(FOR AUTISM AWARENESS DAY APRIL 2)

Autism is standing still while

Everyone runs for the cliff edge

And you want to know why

Before joining them

But the surge pushes you down

And they thunder across your back

And you’re bloody but not broken

Because the rage keeps you sane

Autism is always being chosen

To be

The Cheese

In Farmer in the Dell

The Cheese stands alone

In the middle of the circle

As baby classmates point and sing

And you cry

But the next year you don’t cry

You will never let them break you

At least they won’t know

You care

Autism is getting it wrong when a boy flirts

Confusion from what he means

Interpreted by his ego

Thinking you’re indifferent

To his oh-so-obvious charms

And he hates you

Autism is being nice to a boy

Who seems like a friend

But not realizing

His ego…

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No greater love: a short story (Part 1 of 3)

I love this three-part story by fellow blogger, JW, so much I want to share it with everyone. A Vietnam vet, JW injects the harsh reality of that time in our history into his tale in a way only those who experienced it can do. And on top of that, he’s one hell of a storyteller. Please read all three parts (you won’t be disappointed) and show some love.

JW's Creative World

Commotion in the auditorium aroused the attention of Dan Douglas. He was here by special invitation, though he has never done any public speaking.

What am I going to say?

The pastor said there was no reason to prepare. But this was a full house. Surely they want something more than just winging it.

Dan is a Vietnam veteran. He pulled two tours in Southeast Asia in the early seventies. And, though he was highly decorated, he would gladly return them all, considering the lingering effects spawned during incidents which garnered him three purple hearts: but left him partially disabled.

Likewise, at times like this, when an abundance of ambient sounds cannot be easily discerned, and his own state is agitated, he finds his focus reverting back to those earlier days when friendships forged in preparation and survival of humanity’s worst become life-long bonds.

Fort Dix, New Jersey, 1969: a…

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Picking Flowers

I very seldom do a reblog, but this lady writes such amazing poetry, I wished to share it. I can’t praise her enough! Psst . . . there’s more wonderful stuff on her blog. Please visit and enjoy.

lifecameos

Tall trees shade
the garden’s back corner
where plants sprawl over the ground
in a rampant wilderness.
Violets spread prolifically
around gnarled tree roots
their clumps of leaves
speckled with tiny purple flowers.
Wandering Jew crawls
over tree roots
around violets and
clumps of long stemmed grass.
Bright green oxalis starred
with tiny mauve flowers
fills in the gaps.

The three year old is
enthralled by this
multi – hued carpet
dappled light and dark
by wind fluttering leaves;
enchanted by its flowers and
and tall grass seed stems.

She walks through it
picking flowers and seed stems,
followed by the black and white cat
who stares up at the branches
watching birds fly away
when his collar bell jingles.

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